There will be snow soon, that much is sure, and it will soon be so cold that going outside without mittens (not gloves, mittens) would mean your hands would just snap and fall off on the floor, like that, leaving you looking like the chap on the left there.
When we were away on our grand tour (which I know so many of you followed, your loving mouths open with amazement and joy), my friend Miss Li stayed in our flat. She left it (far) more tidy than she found it, and left (amongst other things like a fully-stocked fridge, homemade biscuits, fruit and chocolate) a present so strange and so lovely that I keep looking at it and wondering if, secretly, it might be the best present I have ever been given.
So it makes sense, here is what she wrote on the card (and warning: the photo doesn't do it justice - phone rather than camera):
"From my heart to yours ... vintage watch part containers filled with a watch part and star ... in the Chinese Origami world these are lucky stars ... watch gears represent time ... three different sizes of containers represent big to small moments in your life ... all together, wishing you luck all the time and any time."
And here is another lovely thing I am happy I can look at every day. I bought it in Hastings with my dear friends L&S. L says he knows that the poem is without looking it up; I haven't worked it out yet - if you do, let me know, and no cheating; you can work out "roseate" which would probably be enough to find it online, but that would be cheating, deffo. (I can't remember what these are called - L knew but I didn't write it down.) Anyway, it was made in 1842, and I particularly like the first picture of the little carriage going through the arch.
There we are then. Pretty things for a rainy day.
In other news, I made some Apple and Banana Bread out of the very dusty, very 80s Cranks cookbook I found on my shelf last night. It is quite amusing if you make it in a cake tin; cross between banana bread and real bread. Toasts well an' all. Yes. (I used pear instead of apple and added a chopped up pear. Nice.) Bit out focus, this, and the sugar monster is making itself known in the background, but still, you'll get the gist:
Pip "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness" Pip
NWM
5 comments:
Ooh, I LOVED my Cranks cookbook. And despite the fact that the restaurant would be very dated and unfashionable now, I would eat there today if it was still open. Stodge-tastic.
I think the puzzle is called a rebus.
Yes ! Back in the days gone by, when young people still made things (rather than look at screens), making rebus was a bit of a rainy day pastime in my family.
What great "prizes" you have! A wonderful house sitter and a fab rebus!
Have you considered a career as a friend-renter-outer? Because Miss Li is clearly utterly superior as friends go and lots and lots of people would probably pay exorbitant amounts of money for her to stay and leave lovely things.
Rebus - that's a lovely one! All the ifs and it's are easy, and I can do first and hues (hews) and I think rove and maybe cove? Although wouldn't that be cowve... or possibly oxve... or even bullve but cove seems more likely somehow. However goddess-person-bursting-through-gates doesn't scan terribly well, nor does dic[?]-bow-snail seem to make enormous sense, even in poetry.
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